


your love is my favorite band

by mikotoh



Series: band AU (name TBD) [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Bars and Pubs, Concerts, Drinking, M/M, Music, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Punk Rock, Rating May Change, Rating will change, Song Lyrics, more like, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26451673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikotoh/pseuds/mikotoh
Summary: Ten years ago, Arthur Morgan was an up and coming local country music star- but an intense discomfort in the spotlight led to him quietly exiting the music scene and fading back into obscurity.Now in the present day, in a desperate attempt to win back the pride of his adoptive father/ex-agent, he's helping him search for a new act to manage- and, hopefully, rise to stardom with.But a partnership with a local garage punk band headed by the surly John Marston might just be more than Arthur bargained for.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde (mentioned), John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Series: band AU (name TBD) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878640
Comments: 26
Kudos: 30





	1. all in vain

**Author's Note:**

> the lyrics in this chapter are from the vaccines song teenage icon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S0idSXVOfcw
> 
> the chapter title is also from the vaccines song of the same name, and, you guessed it, the work title is a vaccines song as well.
> 
> theyre my favorite band, and i feel like their whole aesthetic/mood fits john and rdr in general (specifically their first album, albeit i imagine johns band is even more lofi and garage/punk), so ill be referencing them a lot lmao

_"Oh, look at me, so ordinary,_

_No mystery with no great capabilities, but_

_I could make out as if I had it, but you know,_

_God, I'm so obvious and I should let it go,_

_Oh, I don't know, ooh,"_

From the corner of the dark, smoky bar, Arthur watched the singer of whatever local band was playing while absentmindedly sketching in his journal.

_"I'm no teenage icon,_

_I'm no Frankie Avalon,_

_I'm nobody's hero,_

_Ooh, oh oh oh ooh..."_

He wasn't expecting to see a portrait of said singer when his mind snapped back to reality, but it didn't exactly surprise him either as he just let himself draw whatever his hands wanted to at times like this.

_"Reserved and shy, your average guy,_

_No piercing stare, just out of shape with messy hair, but_

_I always figured I was somebody in wait,_

_And now I'm guessing that my moment must be late_

_'Cause I'm here, ooh,"_

Arthur glanced down at the now warm whiskey he'd been nursing for far too long with a look of indignation.

_"I'm no teenage icon,_

_I'm no Frankie Avalon,_

_I'm nobody's hero,_

_Ooh, oh oh oh ooh..."_

Better get another.

He got up and approached the counter as the current song playing began to peter out, only to be interrupted by his phone going off right as he was about to take a sip of his new drink.

Perfect timing, Dutch.

"Yeah?"

"Well? They've been on for an hour, haven't they?"

"Just about."

"What do you think?"

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"Another two-bit garage punk band. Nothin' special."

 _" _No_ thin'? _Arthur, did you even listen to the singer? He's got talent, I can tell. Potential."

"You sure about that?"

"Positive. Give him my business card after their show, would you? And buy the band a couple rounds. On me."

"Still not sure why I gotta do this instead of you."

" _Because,_ Arthur, I'm scoping out a different show. And frankly you've got the better end of the deal here, as I don't see one shred of talent in _these_ youngsters."

"If you say so."

"I do. Lemme know how it goes."

"Gotcha."

A couple more drinks later, and the band had performed their last song to scattered applause throughout the mostly empty venue. Arthur watched as the musicians dispersed from the stage after a few minutes, before each one took a seat at the bar top. He kept a slight distance for the moment, but made various silent observations from his own place at the far end.

Guitarist. Latino. Well-groomed.

Bassist. Mixed. Very quiet, compared to the others.

Drummer. Pale red-head. Loud with a heavy Irish accent.

Keys. Black. Definitely the youngest, and seemed like a college boy.

And then there was the singer.

Dark hair, falling to just above his shoulders. Tattered clothing under a well-worn denim jacket, paired with a red cloth choker and too many junky bracelets to count. Pretty much just your typical wannabe young punk singer.

But, now that he was closer and in the light, Arthur could make out a set of deep scars on the right side of his face, accentuated by a piercing in his lip and numerous others in his ears. 

Looked like they came from something real nasty, whatever it was.

He watched the group of five young men interact for a few minutes more before finally downing the rest of his drink and standing up from his stool, slowly making his way over to the singer and giving him a tap to the shoulder.

"'Scuse me."

And then he was promptly met with a glare from the man with the dark hair.

"Yeah?"

Arthur produced a business card from one of his pockets and held it out.

"A friend of mine is an agent and he's interested in your band, so I'm here to pass on his info."

The other man eyed the card with slight suspicion, but took it anyway after a moment and scanned over the text.

"... Dutch Van der Linde? The hell kind of name is that?"

"I dunno. You better call and ask him that yourself. He thinks y'all have got 'potential.'"

A sneer and a roll of the eyes from the younger man.

"Yeah, sure. We've heard it before, but we're not-"

"Oi! Hey, hey, hey! I know you!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow as the redhead of the band pushed his way through the others and faced him with a starstruck look in his eyes.

"I knew it! I knew it were you, even under those bloody stage lights! Arthur Morgan!"

Oh, boy.

The dark-haired man stared at his band mate in response.

"Who?"

"Arthur Morgan! He was a big deal around here, what, ten years ago? He was the next up and coming music star! Country, weren't ya? Oh, everyone was always on about him!"

Arthur let out a sheepish chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck in nervousness.

"Ah, I don't know about that… I was just a kid with a guitar back then."

"Yeah, right! You were the hottest thing in town!"

He snatched the business card away from the singer then.

"Oh, if this were your agent from before, then we are _definitely_ interested! And Marston, don't make these sort of calls without consulting the rest of us first!"

"Sean's right, John. This could be a big opportunity for us."

John Marston, huh?

The younger man glared as the bassist approached them from the other side of Sean.

"Opportunity? More like the _man_ wanting to own us! I told you before, I ain't selling ourselves to those music industry jerks, Charles."

"Sure, but who knows what this guy wants, or how he does business. We could very well gain more exposure and experience without having to sell out."

"Bah!"

"Don't listen to him, Charles. John's just pissy 'cause he hadn't gotten laid in a while."

"Swear to God, Javier, I have no problems knocking you out on your ass right here and playing your parts myself from now on."

"Oh, please. You don't even know how to read music."

"That-! That don't matter!"

"C'mon, guys, would you stop bickering for one second?"

The keys gave his band members a look of exasperation then before turning to Arthur with a smile.

"Sorry, mister. Don't listen to those idiots. Let this… Mr. Van der Linde know we'll be in touch, okay?"

The older man returned the smile as he reached back into his pockets and pulled out a small clip of cash.

"Sure. Here's some drinking money on him, by the way. To let you know he's serious."

But John had grabbed it from him before he could hand it off to the others.

"And you tell him we can't be bought with a couple of cheap drinks, got it?"

If first impressions were everything, then this kid had already dug himself into a deep hole.

"Yet you're... taking the money anyway."

"Well, duh. That don't mean nothin', though."

"Tch. Whatever you say."

With that Arthur took his leave and headed towards the entrance to the bar, throwing a final look back at the group of boys on his way out.

And maybe it was just him imagining things, but he could have sworn he saw the man with the scars glancing at him one last time as he walked out the door into the night.


	2. somebody elses child

"So? How'd it go?"

Arthur had barely even stepped into the house his fathers owned before Dutch started interrogating him about the concert from last night.

"Fine."

"Did you get in touch with the singer?"

"I did. Gave him your business card and the drinking money."

"And?"

He held up his hands in resignation as he kicked off his boots at the front door.

"Kid's a brat. Not quite sure what you see in him, to be honest. The rest of the band were a lot nicer."

"It's not about _niceness_ , Arthur, it's about _talent_. The boy can sing. He's got a voice unlike any other I've heard before."

"Never heard a voice as hoarse and ragged as his either, but you don't see me drooling over him."

Dutch scoffed and held out a glass of liquor to Arthur when he sat down across him at the kitchen table.

"Please, Arthur. Have some faith. You know I was right about your own talent, even… if you did give it up."

Oh Lord, not this conversation again.

Arthur frowned and took the drink, absentmindedly swirling the ice in it around.

"Don't start, Dad. I've told you countless times before it just weren't for me. But that's why I'm helping you find your next 'musical protege' anyway, to make up for leaving the scene."

"So I've heard."

Arthur rested his chin on one hand as he stared out the window next to him.

"... What's Pa up to?"

"Oh, you know. Out there doing what he does best."

"You mean scammin' rich people?"

"Absolutely."

Dutch smiled a little then, and Arthur mirrored the expression.

"Well, I can't stay around for too long, so tell him I said hi when he gets back, okay?"

"Sure, Arthur. You'll have to see him next time, though. He misses you."

And Arthur missed him too, considering his other father supported his decision to leave the music industry wholeheartedly while Dutch was still holding a grudge against him over it.

"I know, I know."

"Oh, but he did pack you a tin of cookies to take home."

"Hahaha… That's Pa for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another rdr fanfic, another avoidance of writing hosea bc hes one of my fav rdr characters and im afraid i wont do him justice :') 
> 
> chapter title is from the song of the same name by the vaccines


	3. wolf pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics in this chapter are from the song wreckin' bar (ra ra ra) by the vaccines: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1myUTtBBBc

A couple weeks had passed before John and his band (tentatively named Tattoo Rodeo) got another gig.

He hadn't given much thought to his encounter with Arthur since then, but of course Sean was going to bug him about it anyway while they were setting up their instruments.

"Hey, you think that Arthur Morgan'll be here?"

"I don't know, Sean, and I don't really care."

"Oh, sure. As if we all didn't see ya ogling him when you met."

"Please."

John stayed focused on properly tuning his guitar, even as Sean continued to prattle on.

"Well, if  _ you _ ain't gonna make a move, then I will. Always wanted to sleep with a celebrity, you know?"

"He's not even famous, Sean."

"Around here he is! You tellin' me ya never heard of him before?"

"Nope. I'm not into country music."

"Ah, but he weren't your typical country… There was real soul behind his lyrics, I tell ya."

"Whatever you say."

It wasn't long then before a (very small) crowd soon filled the bar, and as John stepped up to the microphone, he spotted Arthur sitting in the very back again.

Arthur gave him a little salute with a smirk and John just scoffed in return before clearing his throat.

"Thanks for coming. We are Tattoo Rodeo, and we're here to make you think about death and get sad and stuff! One, two, three!"

_ "Pretty girl, wrecking bar, _

_ Ra, ra, ra, ra, yeah you are! _

_ Growing up, I'm twice the man, _

_ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I am!" _

The truth was John lived for his moment on the stage, belting out into the microphone and strumming calloused fingers against his old guitar.

_ "The angel's game, F. Scott Fitzgerald, _

_ The evening news and the morning herald, _

_ I know they're not from very far, _

_ Les femmes, les bars; C'est pas une joie!" _

He meant it when he said he wouldn't sell out to the man; quite frankly, John didn't much care if they never got any bigger than they already were.

_ "Where you been? You can't say? _

_ Hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah you may! _

_ That might seem a bit below, _

_ No, no, no, it's funny though!" _

John really, truly loved the music most of all.

_ "Let's go home, I think we oughta, _

_ I know you're your mother's daughter, _

_ Well brought up and royal blue, _

_ But I haven't got the time for you!" _

Unfortunately for him, half of his bandmates had big dreams of becoming rich and famous musical legends.

_ "Finger pointing, pre-supposing, _

_ Watch out man, the doors are closing, _

_ This is what you get when you turn your back, _

_ A clear blue sky turning grey and black!" _

Sometimes he regretted actually becoming friends with the guys. He knew he'd miss them if the band ever split up, and he hated depending on other people for his happiness.

So for now John was begrudgingly stuck with them and their stupid cherished friendships.

\---

For whatever reason John felt like keeping to himself during their post-gig celebratory drinking, and decided to sit at the very end of the bar with his alcohol in hopes of avoiding human interaction.

But apparently the universe had other plans.

"That show was better than the last, at least."

John looked up with a glare at Arthur taking a seat next to him all of a sudden.

"Gee, thanks."

"Have y'all given any thought to Dutch's offer?"

The younger man waved his hand in an apathetic gesture.

"Go ask them. I ain't interested."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Well, if you say so. But you should know Dutch was interested in  _ you _ specifically."

Dammit.

John watched the other man next to him carefully as he took a swig of his drink before speaking again.

"Why? What's so special about me?"

"He likes your voice. Says it's one of a kind. Special. I can't much say I agree, but I gotta trust in Dutch's intuition."

"Geez. Why you doin' the leg work for this guy, anyway? Shouldn't he be here instead?"

"He's working on some other plans."

"Oh, I'm sure-"

"And I'm doing it because he's my dad."

That caught John off guard.

"... Your dad is your agent?"

" _ Was  _ my agent. Don't do that anymore."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

Arthur began to fidget a bit nervously in his seat.

"... It wasn't for me."

John took another sip of his drink then, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand afterward.

"... Well, that don't change my mind any."

"Didn't think it would. But I had to try."

With that Arthur stood up and started to walk towards the other members of the band- but stopped for a second to look back at John over his shoulder.

"Also, you gotta think of a better band name. Tattoo Rodeo? What kind of nonsense is that?"

And John just raised his middle finger in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obligatory scott pilgrim vs the world reference #1
> 
> johns band name is credited to ryu and the various dumb morston convos weve had
> 
> chapter title is from the song of the same name by the vaccines


	4. change of heart pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics in this chapter are from the song all in white by the vaccines: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=un5gkRvOE0U

“I cannot fucking  _ believe _ you’re selling us out.”   
  
“Getting an agent does not mean we’re selling out, John.”   
  
“Either way, I’m the founder of this band, Charles! Shouldn’t  _ I  _ have the final word on this?”   
  
“You wouldn’t  _ have  _ a band without us. And you’re outnumbered. You’re more than welcome to leave if you don’t like it.”   
  
“But it’s  _ my  _ fucking band! _ ” _

And that was how they ended up here in the garage of one Dutch Van der Linde with their instruments, preparing to put on a brief performance for their new manager to show him their skills up close and personal.

In the meantime John was sulking in the corner with his arms crossed and a sullen look on his face.

Sean approached him and lightly punched him in the shoulder.

“Don’t be such a baby, Marston! This is gonna be our first real step towards making it big!”   
  
“I never said I wanted to  _ get  _ big in the first place!”

“And that’s ‘cause you’re a freak of nature, ain’tcha?!”

Before John could complain any further though the door to the garage had opened and out stepped Dutch, followed by Arthur close behind.

“Alright, boys! Lemme see what you got in you, so I know how to properly utilize your talents!”

John sneered as Javier wordlessly held out his guitar, snatching it out of his hands and slipping the strap over his head as he approached the microphone.

“Let’s just do this already.”

“Now hold your horses, son. I want y’all to play for me one of your songs that’s different from the rest. You’re sort of an alternative punk band, correct? Then play me something slower, something more… reserved.”

John raised an eyebrow and turned to face his fellow bandmates, before looking back towards the mic.

“Fine. We got a song we ain’t played in any shows yet. This one’s called… All In White.”

Dutch pulled up a chair to sit in front of the band, while Arthur sat on a box towards the back of the garage and took out his journal and a pencil.

_ “Break me on the thirty-seventh hour, _

_ Tout me, doubt me, show me all of your power, _

_ I will watch you rise on my back from the ground, _

_ Friend or foe? _

_ I don't know, _

_ Do you like what you've found?” _

_ “Because I will one day shine with you, _

_ I'll shine on a faithful few, _

_ Ahhhhhh, ahhhhh, ahh, ahhh, ahhhhh… _

_ Ahhhhhh, ahhhhh, ahh, ahhh, ahhhhh…” _

_ “Oh, show me low quotations, _

_ Have you earned your stripes? _

_ Fabricate salvation, _

_ Lord, I know your type, _

_ I've known you all my life, _

_ I was always wrong, you all in white,” _

_ “Brush my cause aside with little trouble, _

_ Oh my god, I think I'm hearing double, _

_ I will watch you rise on my back from afar, _

_ Friend or foe? _

_ I don't know, now you're up in the stars,” _

Arthur looked up for a moment in the middle of sketching out his second drawing of John, glancing at the younger man and briefly meeting his gaze.

His eyes were deep and dark, but displayed an incredible depth of emotion nevertheless.

When John flashed him a wry smile Arthur realized he’d been staring and quickly dropped his eyes back to his journal, cursing himself internally for feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden as he tried to distract himself by continuing his sketch.

_ “But I will one day shine with you, _

_ I'll shine on a faithful few, _

_ Ahhhhhh, ahhhhh, ahh, ahhh, ahhhhh… _

_ Ahhhhhh, ahhhhh, ahh, ahhh, ahhhhh…” _

_ “Oh, show me low quotations, _

_ Have you earned your stripes? _

_ Fabricate salvation, _

_ Lord, I know your type, _

_ I've known you all my life, _

_ I was always wrong, you all in white…” _

_ “Oh, show me low quotations, _

_ Have you earned your stripes? _

_ Fabricate salvation, _

_ Lord, I know your type, _

_ I've known you all my life, _

_ I was always wrong, you all in white…” _

_ “Oh, show me low quotations, _

_ Have you earned your stripes? _

_ Fabricate salvation, _

_ Lord, I know your type, _

_ I've known you all my life, _

_ I was always wrong, you all in white…” _

The song drew to a close then, and as it faded out Dutch stood up from his chair and started clapping his hands with a huge grin on his face.

“Brilliant, oh, brilliant! Now  _ that’s  _ what I’m talking about! Incredible! Beautiful! Extraordinary!”

Despite all of his earlier objections, John could feel his cheeks growing pink at praise being heaped on him out of the blue.

“Uh… thanks.”

The other members of the band cheered out then and surrounded John in celebration, with Javier throwing an arm around his shoulders and Sean reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“Aye, I told you he had it in him!"   
  
“That was awesome, mi amigo! We’re definitely ready to premiere that song at our next gig!”

“Yeah, it’ll be our encore and we’ll kick ass with it!”

“Great job, guys.”

John finally managed to crack a smile as he shoved Javier and Sean off of him.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough. Geez. Y’all are too mushy-gushy for your own good.”

“They’re right, though. That was your best performance yet, even with the shoddy garage acoustics.”

John looked over then to see Arthur walking up to them with a smile, and before he could stop himself he was smiling right back at him.

“Sure, cowboy."   
  
And maybe, just maybe, this could work out in their favor after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STUFF ACTUALLY HAPPENS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER I SWEAR and hopefully ill upload it a lot quicker than i did this one lmao
> 
> chapter title is from the song of the same name by the vaccines (and there is no pt. 1 afaik)


	5. wetsuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW FOR AQUAPHOBIA/DROWNING

Of all the things the band's partnership with Dutch would entail, John did not expect being invited to a fancy party at a mansion for people in the music industry to be one of them.

But that's exactly what was happening, and he felt incredibly out of place in his grungy clothes and messy hair in comparison to the well-dressed musical elites who were roaming around and chit chatting with each other.

He was currently nursing a beer by the large buffet of food set out, watching his fellow band members mingle seemingly with little to no trouble while he had retreated after trying and failing to make any sort of small talk whatsoever.

John was almost relieved when Arthur spotted him by himself and came over, even if he'd never admit it.

"Havin' fun?"

He huffed and took a sip of his liquor.

"Not really. I ain't got no clue what to talk about with these folks. Why did Dutch want us to come to this again?"

"Exposure. To get the word out about a new up and coming band."

"Right. Well, I'm fixin' on leavin' soon and letting the guys do all the networking, or whatever its called. Don't see much of a place for me here."

"Aw, c'mon, Marston, it ain't that bad. You just gotta... be yourself."

John raised an eyebrow at Arthur in response.

"That hasn't worked out very well for me so far. I got all of... four friends for being myself."

"Five."

"What?"

Arthur smiled a little and nudged John gently with his elbow.

"Five. We friends, ain't we?"

John stared at the older man for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"Barely."

"Well, that's still somethin'."

Neither of them spoke for a while after that, absentmindedly taking swigs of their drinks while looking over the crowd of socialites.

"... Either way, I haven't had a real boyfriend in, what, five years? So clearly there's something wrong with me on that front."

The comment caught Arthur a bit off guard as he glanced back at John.

"... You're gay?"

A defensive look from the younger man.

"Yeah. Got a problem with that?"

"No, no, not at all. Just… didn't know, is all."

"Well, I guess now you do."

With that John walked off to go sulk somewhere else at the party, not seeing Arthur rubbing his neck with apprehension behind him.

\---

The night went by in a bit of blur for John after his talk with Arthur.

He remembered drinking some more in an effort to call him nerves, until he was definitely drunk and ready to make a full on ass of himself.

At some point afterward then he ended up in an argument with a stranger near the pool in the backyard of the mansion.

Normally he stayed far away from bodies of water because of his phobia, but apparently he was too inebriated to give it much thought.

There weren't many people left around due to the fact the party had been going on for quite a few hours at that point, and most everyone else was either wasted or had already passed out.

Which unfortunately meant that when John shoved the man he was drunkenly arguing with in anger, and the other man retaliated by pushing him into the pool behind them, there was no one in the immediate vicinity there to help.

The pool wasn't even very deep to begin with, but due to John being unable to swim and very quickly starting to panic it didn't take long for him to sink towards the bottom.

His life was flashing before his eyes then as he went down, in muddled shades of blue and green. Everything was blurry, too, not only because of the chlorine but also due to his intoxication.

It was like a dream, almost, and John could feel himself slipping under- although in his current state of mind, it seemed more like sleep than death.

That is, until he felt arms suddenly sliding under his own and dragging him back up to the surface.

He wasn't sure what exactly happened after that, but eventually he became aware of himself laying on the ground and someone pressing down on his chest before he started to cough up water.

Once he could finally breathe again, he opened his eyes up to see none other than Arthur staring down at him.

And all he could do was stare right back in return at first, as Arthur let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank god... You were out for a good second there, Marston! What the hell were you thinking, hanging around a pool drunk off your ass if you can't swim?! You got a death wish?!"

But John didn't say anything in response, just took another moment to catch his breath before he finally scrambled up from the ground and darted away from the other man without a word.

Arthur frowned and followed after him.

"John, wait up! Hey! Oh, you sonofa…"

When he finally caught up with the younger man inside the mansion, he found him sitting on a couch in one of several living rooms with his head in his hands.

"Seriously, John. Are you okay? What the hell happened anyway?"

John still kept silent, even as Arthur sat down on the couch next to him.

It was only when Arthur reached out to touch him on the shoulder did he finally react, violently pushing the other man away as he let out a hiss.

"Don't. Touch. Me!"

Arthur stared in shock as John doubled over at the waist and began hyperventilating while pulling his hair in his fingers.

It took him a second to react but once he came to his senses Arthur acted fast, reaching up and forcibly removing John's hands from his hair and holding them in his own so he couldn't hurt himself. At the same time he moved in closer and spoke in a low voice.

"John, hey, it's okay. Everything's okay. Take a deep breath and breathe. You're safe now, I promise. It's alright."

He squeezed down tight on John's hands then and kept saying things like that, until he heard the younger man's breathing eventually start to slow back down to normal.

"... You know, I'm... really fuckin' cold and… wet."

It was probably in bad taste, but Arthur couldn't keep a small smile from crossing his face when John finally spoke up.

"Me too. You guys brought the van, right? Do you have any towels in there?"

John nodded ever so slightly, and Arthur stood up from the couch.

"Then let's go dry off."

But he was only able to pull one hand out of John's grasp when he turned to leave, looking back to see the young man still gripping down tightly onto the other.

He didn't say anything about it, though, and let John hold his hand as they made their way out to the van outside, stepping over various drunk party goers as they left.

Only when they reached the vehicle did John let go as he pulled out his keys, albeit seemingly in reluctance.

They climbed into the back of the van and sat down on the floor beside the well-worn mattress after Arthur found a set of towels and handed one off to John.

John made a cocoon around himself and went silent again as he kept his eyes glued to the floor underneath them.

"... I'd have brought a swimsuit along if I'd known I'd be swimmin' today."

He glanced up at Arthur before looking away again.

"... Sorry."

"It's fine. I'm just glad I got to you time, considering I was inside when I heard you splashing around." 

John felt his eyes go wide then as he finally fixed his gaze on the older man.

"... You were?"

"Yeah. Saw it through the window. Realized it was you when you went under and just… sprinted towards the pool, I guess."

And he was kicking himself for it, but he could feel his cheeks start to heat up.

"... Thanks."

"Don't mention it. I know Dutch would rip me a new one if I let his new star attraction drown."

At that John finally cracked a smile.

"I'm sure he'd just find another stupid kid to work on."

"Maybe, but they wouldn't be as stupid as you."

"Get bent."

Silence fell between them again, until Arthur said something that caught him completely off guard.

"... What you said earlier, about somethin' being wrong with you… Well, maybe this ain't the right time to say it, but I don't think that's true. I'm sure there's someone out there for ya. You just gotta find them, is all."

John ended up snorting with laughter then, even though he was sure he was still blushing like a schoolgirl.

"What are you, some kind of expert in romance?"

"Nah. I was just thinkin' 'bout it before I had to go and save your life."

"You better not hold that against me now, like I owe you somethin'."

"I mean, I  _ guess _ you do owe me a life savin', but I'd really rather not leave that in your hands in the first place. So whatever."

"Oh, gee, thanks."

Further silence, before John spoke up in a quiet voice.

"... Please don't tell the guys about this. They don't know about me… being afraid of water."

"I can't see them judging you for it."

"I guess, but…"

Arthur watched John across from him carefully and then put on a gentle smile.

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would have tagged aquaphobia but i kind of rly hate how tags apply to the whole fic instead of individual chapters lmao...
> 
> fun fact the bands lineup and the scene of john falling in the pool were the only two things i had in mind when i first started writing this au lol (i also originally had the stranger as micah but its my au and micah doesnt deserve to be here)
> 
> chapter title is from the song of the same name by the vaccines


	6. denial

John had been smoking a cigarette outside of the venue they were going to be playing at that night when the idea came to him, out of the blue.

He stomped the cig out and headed inside with an uncharacteristic spring in his step as he approached the other band members practicing without him on the stage.

"I got it. Hey! Stop for a second, I got it!"

Once the sound of their different instruments playing had stopped he grinned and flapped his hands slightly in the air.

"I got it."

"Got what, John?"

"I've figured out a new name for the band."

Charles raised an eyebrow with a hand on his hip.

"I didn't realize we were changing it."

"Listen, you and I both know Tattoo Rodeo is silly, okay? So I thought of something else, and it's awesome."

"Well, let's hear it, then."

In the far corner of the stage, Arthur lifted his head up from a piece of sound equipment he'd been working on and carefully watched John in the distance, even though the other man wasn't paying him any attention at the moment.

John took in a deep breath then before squeezing his hands into fists.

"American Venom."

And what he got in response was a resounding silence.

After a few seconds he frowned and threw his arms up in disbelief.

"Really? Seriously, nothing?! I just had a fucking  _ revelation _ out there, and y'all don't-"

"I like it."

John looked over then at Javier speaking up, followed by Charles nodding to himself.

"So do I."

"Me too."

"Aye, same here. Who'd've thought Marston over here was a poet, eh?"

At that John finally grinned again.

"Ah, I ain't nothin' like that. It just… came to me, is all. And I really liked it. Think it… fits us."

"Does that mean I have to think up new t-shirt designs?"

John hadn't even noticed Arthur cross the threshold towards him until he made that quip, at which the younger man glanced towards him with eyes slightly wide in surprise.

"Wait, are you serious?"

Arthur nodded and reached towards his side to pull his journal out from his satchel, flipping to a page and holding it out to John afterward.

"Sure. Don't got nothin' better to do when y'all are up there making a racket."

The rest of the band gathered around the two of them then so they could each get a good look at Arthur's drawings.

"Wow, Mister Morgan, those are… awesome!"

"You've got a real knack for this sort of thing, señor."

"Our Arthur Morgan, not just a musician but an  _ artist  _ as well?"

"Ha… I'm about as much of an artist as Marston is a poet. It's just… a hobby."

But John didn't say anything else as he continued to trace his eyes over the various sketches.

\---

Later on that night as the band parted ways after the show, John tried to be as casual as possible as he turned up the collar of his jacket against the cold breeze before following after Arthur.

"Hey, wait up!"

Arthur looked over his shoulder before smirking and slowing down his stride.

"Oh, no. I ain't taking home any lost puppies."

"Shut up and listen, would ya?"

John pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and fidgeted with the top of the box as he spoke.

"I just wanted to tell you, that, uh… those drawings from earlier were real good."

And Arthur was suddenly thankful it was too dark for John to see his face heating up.

"... Well, thanks, John, but…"

"But nothin'. The guys were right; you've got a natural talent for it. Since you're not gonna go back to music, have ya every thought of, you know…  _ doing  _ something with that talent?"

The older man blinked a couple times before half-heartedly shrugging his shoulders.

"Nah, not really. S'not like I'm formally educated in making art or anything."

"Maybe not, but you could be."

John pulled out two cigarettes and lit both up, passing one to Arthur then.

"I'm just sayin'. You could be doing a lot better than sitting in dive bars and listening to us losers play, night after night."

He came to a stop then and Arthur followed suit as he watched the younger man nervously rub at the back of his neck across from him.

"Anyway… That's all. Just wanted to say that, before I go and forget like the idiot I am. Night."

And with that John turned to head back in the direction they came from, towards his own home, but he only made it a couple steps before he heard Arthur clear his throat and speak up behind him.

"Listen, John… You live further away from here than I do, right?"

John turned on his heel then and watched Arthur closely, squinting his eyes slightly.

"Yeah, I… think so."

"Well, my place is right nearby, if ya wanna just… crash there for tonight. Since it's pretty late and gettin' real cold out."

John stared at Arthur for a moment as a wry smile slowly crossed his face.

"... Are you comin' on to me?"

Goddammit.

Arthur frowned and sputtered in exasperation, already internally kicking himself for his attempt to reach out to John.

"What?! No! Jesus, Marston, I was just… I was just tryin' to be a good friend! Would you get your mind outta the goddamn gutter for once?!"

But he found himself unable to stay annoyed when John suddenly burst into laughter.

"Dude, I'm just kiddin'! As  _ if  _ you'd ever have a chance with me! Hahaha!"

After a moment Arthur realized he'd had his gaze fixated on John's face as he laughed, slowly becoming captivated with the way the other man's features lit up.

It wasn't something you saw very often with a person as dour as John.

Once he came to his senses he was grinning in return.

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"I didn't say no."

Arthur turned and watched as John walked back towards him, still getting a couple giggles out of his system.

"Lead the way, sunshine."

\---

If you’d have told John he’d be in the apartment of the weird dude in the back of the bar who’d been watching them play that one night, with both of them sitting on his couch and drinking beer together, he wouldn’t have believed you.

Well, maybe he would have. 

He’d been in stranger situations before, after all, especially when it came to his various bed mates.

Not that anything like that would be happening between him and Arthur.

John held his beer over his mouth as he turned it upside down and tilted his head back in an attempt to drink any remaining drops, before crushing the can in his fist and tossing it onto the floor.

“Hey! My floor ain’t a recycling bin. Pick that up.”

The younger man waved his hand dismissively in Arthur’s direction.   
  
“I’ll throw ‘em all out tomorrow.”

At that remark he was met with Arthur’s own empty can lightly bouncing off his head.

“Ow!”   
  
“Pick. It. Up.”

“Alright, alright! Fine.”   
  
John grumbled to himself as he stood from the couch and picked their first two cans up, wandering towards the kitchen afterward.

“The bin’s under the sink.”

Once he’d put the recycling away he went to the fridge and helped himself to another beer, pausing for a moment before begrudgingly grabbing one for Arthur as well.

As he popped the tab on his drink he took a second to examine his surroundings, looking over the different appliances and doohickies making up Arthur’s kitchen.

It was nice, or at least nicer than his. 

Clean and organized, but not to the point of neurosis.

Well-stocked with food, contrasting starkly with his own sparse cabinets back home.

John took a sip of his beer as he slowly walked back to the couch, eyeing the rest of Arthur’s furniture on his way over.

“You got some neat stuff, Morgan.”

Arthur watched as John sat down next to him again, a bit surprised when offered the unopened can but taking it regardless.

“It’s not too fancy, is it?”

“Nah. But it’s still nice. Is that all stuff you bought in your glory days?”

Arthur frowned a little and cracked open the beer.

“I wouldn’t call them  _ that. _ But yes, most of my… higher quality things are from that time.”

In all honesty he was seriously hoping his best days were still yet to come.

John reached forward to grab the remote for the TV off the coffee table then, and turned it on to a random channel on low volume, just for background noise.

He took another sip of his drink but stayed quiet otherwise, thinking to himself.

‘... Y’know, everyone’s always asking me why I stopped making music.”

At Arthur speaking up John looked over at him with wide eyes.

But the other man just smiled and held his can out towards John.

“But has anyone ever asked  _ you _ what made ya _ start?” _

John blinked a few times before pouting a little.

“Seriously?”

And Arthur just nodded as John sighed and sunk back a bit into the couch.

“I mean… it’s really not that interesting. I was in foster care growing up. Mom died when I was born, I think, and my dad went too when I was eight. After that I was just shuffled around between families. It was miserable, most of the time, but in one house there was an older girl with a guitar. And occasionally she’d let me play it.”   
  
He stared down into the opening of his drink, watching the liquid swish around absentmindedly.

“It was my only escape from the hell that was my life. I practiced whenever I could, and at some point I started writing down songs in a crappy little journal. I still have it, somewhere, but it’s completely full. Once I turned eighteen I got out of there and managed to find an apartment with someone looking for a new roommate. That was Charles. Eventually he moved out but I stayed there. Through him I met Javier, and Sean… well.”

John chuckled quietly and ran a hand through his hair.

“Sean was a drunken fling that decided to hang around and become a nuisance. Lucky for him he’s a good drummer. After that it was just the four of us making noise for a while, until about… half a year ago? We decided to put up flyers looking for someone who could play the keys. And Lenny answered.”

He took a sip from his beer before closing his eyes and resting his head against the back of the couch.

“I dunno. I just like music. All of it, you know? Writing songs, and composing them, and performing them, and watching how people react when they hear them for the first time. That’s the only reason I’d want to play at bigger venues, honestly. Not for fame, or for money. Just so our music could reach more people, and maybe help them the way it helped me.”

When John opened his eyes after a minute and glanced in Arthur’s direction, he saw the older man staring at him with an entranced look- until he realized what he was doing and quickly averted his gaze, coughing awkwardly into his arm.

“That’s, uh… That’s. An interesting story, John. Really.”

Once he noticed Arthur’s embarrassment, however, John ended up laughing.

“Jeez, Arthur. You’re actin’ like I’m Shakespeare or somethin’.”   
  
“No, it’s… it’s just… I don’t know. It’s… admirable, how you followed your dreams like that, and… managed to carve out a place in the world for yourself, despite it all. Not everyone can do that. A lot of people just… give up, or settle for less. But you didn’t.”

And now it was John’s turn to get embarrassed, cursing himself internally for his cheeks suddenly growing warm.

“Ah… well… thanks, I guess.”

Awkward silence fell between the two of them then, John keeping his eyes on the TV in an attempt to distract himself.

“... Dreams are… part of why I left the music industry, actually.”   
  
And of course that comment made his gaze quickly snap back onto Arthur.

“... Yeah?”   
  
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I… part of me loves making music too. At least, I like playing the guitar. Never could quite figure what the heck everyone else liked about my voice, but I enjoyed singing too, after some practice. But… I love drawing even more. I love watchin’ people, and drawing them and everything else... Dunno why. Just feel a… connection to the world when I draw. I can’t explain it.”

He laughed bitterly and shook his head.  “God, I sound like a fuckin’ child when I word it like that.”

John frowned and moved slightly closer to Arthur on the couch without realizing it, resting his free hand close to Arthur’s.

“Nah, don’t say that. I get it. I could tell it’s something you really like, with those t-shirt designs earlier. That’s why I said you should find a way to use that talent. Make it a livin’, if it makes you happy.”

“I can’t.”   
  
“Why not?”

Arthur looked away then and kept his eyes on the floor.

“I owe my dad.”

“Owe him  _ what?” _

“Owe him for… for everything I had and got to do, from before. I wouldn’t have ever gotten into music if it hadn’t been for him. But now that I left it all behind… my dad can’t do everything he wants to. That’s why I gotta find him a new act, so he can make money again and… follow his own dreams.”

When Arthur finished talking John just stared at him for a moment, before leaning towards the older man and speaking in a deathly serious tone.

“Arthur, it’s  _ your  _ life. You don’t owe him  _ anything.” _

Oh, how he wished he could believe that.

Arthur caught John’s line of sight, briefly, but ended up setting his can of beer on the table and getting up from the couch.

“I’m… gonna go crash.”

He left the room for a moment and returned with a blanket, tossing it at John without another word before heading into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

And although Arthur’s couch was quite comfortable, John found he had a hard time falling asleep on it that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SHOULDNT BE SO BAD AT POSTING CHAPTERS WHEN IVE LITERALLY HAD THEM WRITTEN FOR A WHILE BUT HERE WE ARE
> 
> chapter title is from the song of the same name by the vaccines


	7. bad mood

It was their first performance out of the city.

Sure, it was just in a small town not far from where they all lived, at the local county fair- not nearly as exciting as playing at the  _ state  _ fair, of course- but it was still a big deal for them, considering it was the largest venue they’d played at yet.

Not to mention the fact it was their first time staying in a motel together, like a real band.

Granted, Dutch had made it very clear it wasn’t the nicest place due to having to rent out four double bedded rooms, but John was looking forward to it anyway. 

Even if he was stuck sharing a room with Arthur after his bandmates sorted out their own arrangements without consulting him.

Charles drove their old, rickety van to the motel and Javier took shotgun while John, Lenny, and Sean piled in the back with the instruments. 

The three of them excitedly discussed the upcoming show and tried to psych themselves up as Dutch and Arthur lead the way in their own vehicles.

It was supposed to go well.

So when they finished their first song and were met with only a scattering of applause, despite the bigger audience, it came as a bit of a surprise.

The rest of the band exchanged worried looks between each other before John simply nodded at them, wordlessly indicating they should keep playing anyway.

And, they did. Even as the audience reaction stayed about the same.

It wasn’t a  _ negative  _ reaction, admittedly, but it was still heartbreaking to the up and coming musicians.

After they finished their setlist and packed up their equipment (alongside Arthur as an extra hand), Dutch tried to reassure them as they exited backstage.

“Boys, boys. Don’t look so down. You did your best, I guarantee you. This just… wasn’t the right crowd for your… type of music, it seems.”

Murmurs of reluctant agreement came from the other members of the band then- except for John, who remained oddly quiet.

Dutch noticed this and threw an arm around the young man’s shoulder as he continued.

“But, hey! Look at it this way. Ya got paid, and ya got exposure. Those are both good things, right?”

John sneered and shoved Dutch’s arm away before grabbing his jacket and storming off, leaving his guitar behind for his bandmates to return to the van for him.

Javier let out a sigh and folded his arms across his chest.

“Oh, boy. You know when John gets quiet like that it’s bad news.”   
  
Arthur’s eyes darted between the others as he frowned. 

“Ain’t one of you gonna talk to him?”

Charles shook his head.   
  
“It won’t do any good. He just… closes himself off. Whenever one of us has tried to get through to him previously we usually get an earful- and it’s even worse than his normal moodiness. Hopefully he’ll find his way back to the motel before it gets too late.”

Arthur huffed but didn’t say anything more, instead choosing to grab his satchel and follow after the dark haired man anyway, in spite of what the rest of the band said.

It took a bit of searching, but after a while he managed to find John already attempting to drink his sorrows away at a food stand.

Arthur put a hand on John’s shoulder and opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself when John looked over and gave him a glare in response without any hesitation, before turning back around.

Unfortunately for John, Arthur Morgan was just about as stubborn as him, and simply sidled in next to him to place an order.

“‘Scuse me. Could I get a large thing of fries, please? Thanks.”

Once he got his food he held the container out to John.

“Eat.”

It took him a second but John eventually reached over to grab a handful of French fries and then (very ungracefully) shoved it into his mouth, still facing away.

Arthur smiled a little and took a couple minutes to eat himself, before again trying to give a touch to John’s shoulder.

For what it’s worth, he wasn’t subjected to another grimace this time.

“Come on, John. That show was just a fluke, you and I both know it. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“But what if they’re  _ all  _ like that, at the bigger places?”

At least that got him talking.

“They won’t be. Believe me. I had bad shows too, but I learned not to take it personally as long as I could tell myself I did my very best.”

John took a sip of his beer and then let out a quiet sigh in frustration.

“... I told you, Arthur, I just want our music to… to make people happy.”

“I know.”

It didn’t take long for John to finish his drink and for the two of them to eat the whole carton of fries, with Arthur gently grasping John’s wrist to tug him away from the stand afterward.   
  
“Come on. We got a couple hours before the fair closes, so we might as well eat some more greasy food before we gotta crash at that dumpy motel Dutch picked out.”

John blinked a couple times and glanced down at his wrist, but didn’t make any attempt to shake Arthur off, instead just rubbing at the back of his head nervously.

“... Didn’t know we implemented a buddy system.”

Quite frankly, Arthur hadn’t realized he was still holding onto John as they walked away- which wasn’t like him, considering he was usually pretty observant.

But at John’s quip he quickly let go.

“Sorry.”

And perhaps, deep down, John was disappointed he did.

\---

“You can go on, but I ain’t.”   
  
John pouted and pointed at the height chart.

“You’re tall enough, ain’tcha?”   
  
“Yeah, but that’s not the point. We just ate a ton of junk food over the past hour, and I  _ ain’t  _ lookin’ to puke it back up.”

“Come on, Morgan, it’s not even a spinny roller coaster. It's just… one on a track going around. Don't go upside down neither."

Arthur huffed and crossed his arms.

"Even if I hadn't eaten so much, I wouldn't wanna go on that rickety thing anyway! It looks like it could break down at any second!"

John just put his hands on hips and raised an eyebrow at the older man- before a shit-eating grin crossed his face.

"You're scared."

"Scared of that one? Sure, 'cause it might kill ya!"

"Oh, please. You're scared of  _ all  _ roller coasters."

"I'm not!"

John laughed and flipped his hair over one shoulder as Arthur's frown grew into more of a belligerent pout.

"Then go on with me. I dare ya."

"Oh my god."

"Otherwise I'm telling the guys you're afraid of roller coasters."

"What? But I haven't even told them about you bein' afraid of water!"

"Yeah, but being afraid of roller coasters is worse."

" _ No,  _ it's not! I-... Argh!"

This kid really knew how to get under his skin.

Arthur finally just threw his hands in the air in resignation before storming over to the ride attendant and handing over a couple dollars, turning around afterward and glaring at John.

"Get your ass over there."

And all John did was laugh some more as he followed behind Arthur to wait in line.

Maybe Arthur  _ was  _ afraid, just a bit.

But roller coasters were very tall and… unnatural. Manmade.

Which meant there could be errors in the system.

When it was their turn he hesitated for a split second as John sat down in the car, but swallowed quietly and forced himself to take the other seat.

John was right about it being a pretty basic ride, at least; the only safety restraints were a lap bar and a seat belt.

Arthur wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one, though.

He was fine going over the first few hills, although if you looked closely his hands were gripping the lap bar so tightly his knuckles had started to go white, even as he himself didn't make a sound.

In the meantime John had his arms in the air and was cheering like a maniac at each twist and turn.

But once they reached the first drop- a fairly small one at that- Arthur finally cracked and started screaming, low at first but steadily getting higher as he scrambled for John next to him and latched onto the other man's torso.

John stopped shouting for just a second to stare in surprise at Arthur's reaction- although right then he wasn't sure if it was in response to the grabbing or the sudden shrieking.

Either way, he was grinning again in no time and laughing as their car flew down the tracks, Arthur clinging to him for dear life right up until the ride finally came to an end.

Once they left the roller coaster and were back on the fairgrounds, Arthur glared at John and spoke through clenched teeth as he tried to compose himself.

"That was the absolute worst thing I've ever done, hands down."

"Aw, you're being a big baby. It was fun!"

"It was  _ terrifying. _ I can't believe you made me do that."

"I didn't  _ make  _ you do anything!"

"You blackmailed me!"

"Maybe a bit, but hey, you did it! Isn't that something?"

"No. I'm too old to be trying new things."

"Oh, please."

And just then John spotted one of those shooting gallery games up ahead, and it gave him an idea.

He grinned and trotted over, Arthur reluctantly following behind.

"What are you doing?"

"Just wait and see."

John handed over a couple bucks and took the air rifle in return as strange, childlike glee appeared on his face.

He positioned the gun against his shoulder and closed one eye to stare down the invisible sight.

Before Arthur had a chance to blink, all of the little people lined up in the game fell down, one by one.

John didn't miss a single shot.

The carnival worker looked surprised but handed over the prize he'd won regardless: a good-sized teddy bear, dressed like a cowboy.

And John immediately turned towards Arthur and held out the stuffed animal.

"There. Now we're even."

Arthur however was still mentally processing how good John's gun skills were, and absentmindedly took the bear while staring at the younger man in astonishment.

"John, that was… Holy shit. That was _ amazing.  _ You are an  _ incredible  _ shot."

John shook his head with a laugh.

"Ah, it's nothin'. Ain't that hard."

"Where did you…?"

"Got a BB gun once for Christmas, from one of the better families I stayed with. Used it to let out a lot of pent up anger on soda cans growing up, basically whenever I wasn't makin' music."

Once the awe had worn off Arthur realized what he was holding, and quickly tried to give it back to John.

"J-John, you won this, not me. I don't got any use for…"

"No, it's yours. Now I don't owe you one from draggin' you onto that roller coaster."

With that John started to walk ahead again, beginning to happily whistle some tune to himself while Arthur stayed behind for a moment and stared at the stuffed bear in his arms, a faint blush forming on his cheeks.

What was he supposed to do with this thing?

It seemed he was stuck with it, considering John took the time to win it for him.

“Aw, that’s so romantic.”

Arthur glanced to the side then and saw the person behind the booth snickering at him.

“What?”   
  
“Your boyfriend winning a teddy bear for you, the big, tough guy. It’s sweet.”

He frowned. “He’s not my-”

"You comin'?"

Arthur looked up to see John grinning at him a few steps ahead, before sighing to himself and putting on a small smile as he nodded and followed after.

Well, he supposed it  _ was _ pretty cute.

In his mind he clarified to himself that he meant the bear, but maybe, just maybe… that applied to John, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> john winning the bear for arthur is more or less a whole scene reference to this one from hot fuzz (aka my favorite movie of all time): https://www.ign.com/videos/2007/04/21/hot-fuzz-movie-clip-shooting-range
> 
> (also the 'hes not my boyfriend' line is a double edgar wright reference: https://youtu.be/HL7WTIb6rqw?t=87 & https://youtu.be/5569O3NZkVU?t=10 and funnily enough that spaced episode was the inspiration for shaun of the dead)
> 
> chapter title is from the song of the same name by the vaccines


End file.
